


Coats and Kisses

by your_local_mook



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Confessions, Cute, Fluff, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Short One Shot, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trenchcoats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23880325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_local_mook/pseuds/your_local_mook
Summary: When Dean finds his best friend's trench coat just lying around, he can't help but put it on. He didn't expect Cas to find it on him so soon, nor did he expect the quiet, tender moments that followed...
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 123





	Coats and Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted Dean to wear the trench coat. The rest just... happened.
> 
> Also, feel free to check out my other works! :D

There was always something about finding a case closer to home that made the boys sigh in relief. Yes, having a monster nearby wasn't ideal, but on the other hand, there's no need for long road trips. No need to check into a motel, no need to scout the area to find potential exits, no need to form escape plans before actually digging into the case at hand. Everything was within easy reach. Everything was as familiar as the routine of the hunt. 

The two brothers and the angel had been researching for a case for about four hours now. Sam, responsibly, took breaks in between every hour, Cas stayed at the table, while Dean had lasted only an hour before going to grab snacks. Then drinks. Then dinner. Then gave up entirely.

Sam was on another one of his breaks when Dean retired to his room, intending to only get his headphones. God knew Dean was going to have to blast Metallica if he wanted to keep paying attention. Not that cases were ever this difficult to pay attention to, but research is so much more fun with Metallica blasting through his brain. 

When Dean opened his bedroom door, he expected to find his headphones on the bed, right where he left it. What he didn’t expect to find was Castiel’s trench coat, draped neatly over the covers, as if it were expecting to be worn. Finding the coat in random places in the bunker wasn’t an issue; Cas had become so comfortable with the family that he often shed his outer layer of clothing, which had become his armour of sorts. This was the first time Dean had seen the coat in his room, and while it was just a piece of clothing, there was something that made the hunter hesitate.

He looked around. No angel in sight. Dean closed the door behind him and walked up to the trench coat. He held it by the shoulders and lifted it, inspecting the clothing, its material, and just… how it looked, in general. For a sketchy style of coat, it wasn’t too bad. Not when worn by the right person.

Dean smiled as a small, comfortable temptation bloomed inside of him. He checked his surroundings once more, before slipping into the trench coat. Almost immediately, Dean’s smile grew wider, and as he checked himself out in the mirror, he hugged the material around the front of his body. He couldn’t explain it, but the coat felt like Cas. It felt the hugs that Cas would give, full of peace, of warmth and a certain degree of home. Dean couldn’t help but bury his face in the shoulder of the coat, breathing in what lingered of Csstiel’s scent.

Wildflowers. That’s what it smelled like. Wildflowers, and the slight, sweet undertone of honey.

Honestly, Dean wasn’t surprised. He thought he smelled cinnamon as well, but that could have just been from the pie he ate earlier. Not that he minded the addition. Sweetness and spice. Angel and hunter. Each calling the other.

“I see you have found my coat.”

Dean whipped his head up to see Cas leaning back against the door, arms crossed and posture completely relaxed. The long sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to the elbows, and Dean couldn’t help but notice the muscle definition of his forearms. But it wasn’t the angel’s appearance that caught Dean’s attention the most. No, rather it was the fact that Castiel wore what Dean swore was the prettiest smile on the face of the Earth. It made Dean’s skin simmer red. Damn. He didn’t even hear Cas come in.

“Cas! Hi. Uh… sorry, let me just-”

“No, it’s alright, don’t take it off.” Castiel pushed himself off the door and strode towards the hunter. There was a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks, but Dean couldn’t understand what it was from. “It looks nice on you.”

“You think so?” Dean looked down at himself, and when he raised his gaze again, Cas was sitting at the edge of the bed. “I dunno. It feels comfy, not gonna lie about that, but…” He sat beside his angel, sharing that same smile. “Ah, you know me, I’m more of a leather kind of guy. Questionable fashion choices? That’s your forte.”

Cas chuckled and lowered his gaze, the pink on his cheeks increasing. Dean followed the direction of Cas’ eyes and saw how close they were sitting, saw their hands just a hair’s width apart from each other’s. Maybe… maybe if he just…

Cas moved his hand up and Dean swallowed his disappointment. That quickly vanished, however, when Cas touched his shoulder, the same one that once bore the angel’s scarred handprint. The hunter felt something sing in his chest in response to the contact. Something about the combination of wearing Cas’ trench coat, reliving that first touch, and just having Cas sit beside him, made Dean feel more alive than ever.

And safe. Safer than Dean had ever felt.

“Sometimes I miss it,” Dean confessed in low, hushed tones. “I mean… at first I hated it. I never asked to be dragged out of Hell, but at the same time, I knew how incredibly ungrateful that was. Then over time, it gave me strength. Hope, even. Knowing you were there with me, always. When I actually got rid of it… I was scared that I’d lost the only part of you I could never get rid of, no matter how bad things got between us.”

Dean allowed himself to raise his gaze, and was met with Castiel’s soft, deep sea eyes.

“If I may be so bold,” the angel began, “you could never have gotten rid of me that easily. Just as I can never get rid of you. You are in my memories, and my most intimate circle, just as I am in yours. Yes, we may end up conflicting on all sorts of fronts, but I’ll always come back to you. Always. Just as I keep hoping that you will eventually return to me.”

Dean’s mind had shut off, leaving the verbal highway clear for the words to come out of his heart. He reacted on impulse, covering Cas’ hand with his own.

“Of course, Cas. Of course I will. I always will, no matter how scared I am of you never forgiving me, or how damaging our last words are to each other. I don’t think I could stay away if I tried. You-” Dean opened his mouth, closed it, sighed, then shook his head. “You’re not just in my memories, Cas. You’re in my friggin’ heart. And I don’t need a mark to remind me of that anymore.”

Something tightened in Castiel’s throat as he stared at Dean, mouth slightly ajar, eyes searching for the barest sliver of a lie. There was none. Gently, almost as if Dean were a butterfly that would fly away at the slightest wrong movement, Cas cupped his face and pressed a tender kiss to the hunter’s forehead. Dean felt Cas’ lips move against his skin, as the angel murmured a few words in a strange tongue. The hunter smiled. He didn't have to understand the words to know what they meant.

"I love you too, Cas."

The angel chuckled, and began kissing his way down Dean's face.

"I never knew you could speak Enochian."

"I can't," Dean replied, closing his eyes. "But I know you. And that's enough for me."

Cas hummed and continued to display his affection. At the corners of Dean's eyes, along his cheekbones, the corners of his smile, and along the man's jawline. Dean tilted his head up on instinct, and felt Castiel's lips graze his neck, an act which widened his smile. 

"Cas…" Dean laughed. "Cas, we've, um. We've still got that case to work on."

"Later." Cas placed kisses along Dean's neck, each one pressed just a little bit harder against the skin than the last. "The case can wait."

"Baby-"

Whatever words Dean might have uttered were stolen away, as Castiel's lips finally pressed against his own. Dean happily and openly kissed back, hands automatically going to Cas' hair, while the angel's arms found their way around his waist, pulling him closer. It was then Dean decided that words were overrated. There was no string of syllables in any language, anywhere in the world, that could have described what Dean was feeling in that moment. Simply put, kissing Castiel was heaven. Every tiny movement that Cas made radiated so much joy, comfort, belonging, and an overall sense of something finally going right, as if it were the final puzzle piece. But most of all, Castiel radiated love. Pure, sweet love, deeply felt, and even more deeply cherished.

Dean forgot about the case. He forgot about the whole world. Let the walls and worries fall away, like the tan trench coat fell away from his shoulders. For now, Dean was more than happy to bask in his lover's light, running his hands through the soft wildflower meadows of the angel's hair, and soaking up the honeyed scent of his angel's touch.


End file.
